I need to get back!

As Winnie the Pooh often said, “If you need to get back, you need to get going”. It was one minute past nine and although Victor had said he didn’t want to go more than 35 to 40 miles, as he “had to get back”, there seemed little sign that anyone was ready to start. I had secured a little support for a north coast ride, to Portreath, for the shorter ride, so, remembering Winnie the Pooh, I decided to make a start. A drabble of wheelers decided to follow. At the count at top of Kergilliack Road we were 17, a sizeable number, but with some riders preferring to ride quicker that some others, by Kessel quarry we had split into roughly two groups. I explained the suggested route- Crane garage, Bolenowe, Troon, Baripper, Coombe and out on the north coast for a tail wind aided blast back to Portreath. Simples. We continued, with group 1 setting off from regroups as group 2 arrived, thus giving riders a chance to swop groups as they wished. Just after Carmenellis I spotted a well know face at the side of the road and slowed. It was Stephen Lightfoot, busy changing an inner tube. Of course, I stopped to give a few sarcastic suggestions and, as Fred, leading group 2, arrived I left him to catch up with the rest of Group 1. I spotted them, struggling up the hill AFTER the Bolenowe turn and gave chase. They took the next turn towards Troon and on again along the main road to Camborne before coming to a halt, they were lost; or was this a well-planned mutiny? When Fred turned up it was to say that Group 2 had also decided to do their own thing. Continuing down Camborne hill, and looking out for Trevithicks’ steam loco coming up, we progressed out to Treswithian and down to Coombe. I set a good, for me, pace out along the north coast but was soon passed and forgotten.
The Atlantic Café was fairly quiet and we commandeered our usual round table. At this point there was 11 of us- myself, Danny, two Daves, Colin, Frankie, Andrew, Phil2, Fred, Teressa, Victor and Caroline. It shouldn’t be surprising that young women these days are so confident, but the “pretty young thing” that took our order was worth noting. She had it all planned. First she took the drinks order, then the food. We almost applauded. With the arrival of a banana milkshake we realised that we were wise not to be so hasty. The drinks order was just about sorted out, we couldn’t blame the one tea bag in a pot of tea for three on her, when the food started to arrive. “Who is the poached egg on toast?” asked the young man bringing the food, the waitress by now being relegated to table clearing duties. When all knowledge of such an order had been rejected he decided that it wasn’t poached egg but fried egg; an easy mistake to make! The vegan breakfast that came, was passed around the table, and removed again was not so easy to understand but gave us plenty to talk about. By the time it was time to go the initial young woman had regained her confidence and decided that she was going to “man” the till. Fortunately another staff member rushed to assist. Those of you that have had small children will have experienced those moments when the wee things “want to help” and I need explain no further. The ghost of the vegan breakfast was still hovering about as we left.
The way back was straight forward, a quick look at the sea and then up to Bridge and turn off across to Jenn’s Diner, then up through Redruth to Lanner Hill, etc. It had been a windy ride but the rain held off. 42 miles for me. Dean

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